Coping?
by Leauh2o
Summary: How is Andy coping with the loss of Sharon?


**A/N tough subject matter but this is how I am dealing with S6**

"Hi my name is Andy, and I'm an alcoholic."

"Hi Andy," a chorus of voices replied.

Andy gripped the podium in front of him. He swallowed, grimacing and turning his head as though he was trying to force a repugnant flavor down his throat.

The faces in front of him were a combination of absolute stranger and possible familiarity. 'Breathe.'

"Ya, so I've been sober for ...well a while now." His fingers dug into the dinged and marred wood of the much use speaking platform. This was going to be harder than he thought and he was prepared for it to really suck.

"I ...I want to ...I want a drink." He shook his head slowly, "shit … I want a bottle. I want to … fucking crawl inside and never come back out."

He looked up at the nameless faces not certain what to expect. Their expressions ran the gamut from pity to disdain. 'Breathe."

"But, I didn't. I didn't drink today. Not today."

There were knowing nods from his audience of peers. Fellow addicts who understood the struggle and the demons he battled.

"I just ...miss her. It was easier with her. She ...I don't know, she helped me see myself differently. Ya know, I should ...we should be ...ah on our honeymoon. We should be celebrating."

He laughed almost bitterly, "you should be congratulating me." His voice began to rise with the strain of maintaining his composure.

"I got married," he held up his left hand displaying the simple gold band. He couldn't stop the tears. He could only ignore them. "A few weeks ago, I got married …." His voice broke, he dropped his gaze, swallowing hard. "She ...was so beautiful. She looked like an angel." He roughly scraped his hand across his face.

"She loved angels," again he laughed. At what, he wasn't certain, the absurdity of the size of her collection? The memory of how brightly she smiled when she spoke of them? Or that he was standing here talking about her to a handful of people who would never understand what he lost.

"Now, she is one." He all but whispered into his chest.

Looking heavenward, he exhaled. "Ya …well she ...ah ...she died. And I want a drink. So here I am. Trying … I'm trying Sharon."

His tears flowed freely now. "I miss you. Everywhere I go ...there you are. Ha, I haven't changed the sheets 'cause they still smell like you. I walk into… hell any room and … expect to see you."

The anger was coming now. If he let it, it could, and would consume him. Several of the coffee mugs had not survived, the last time he let the rage take hold.

"It wasn't enough time …she …ha ...she did everything right. By the book, ya know. Roman Catholics both divorced. She wanted a church wedding. I didn't care ...I wanted to be with her. In my line of work …it pulls all that crap outta ya. God, faith all that religious bullshit.

But she believed. She had such faith ...in God ...in life ...in me." His fist pounded the podium.

"She …" he cleared his throat, "that faith of hers helped me to be ...better ...ya know ...me but a better me."

"We deserved more time! Damn it!" He shook his head again.

"I'm sorry. I just ...I just don't know what to do without her. I curse God! But … but she believed… with such ...such I don't know. She just believed. And I can't help but think that maybe ...maybe if I can believe. Then ...then I'll be with her again."

Andy ran his hands over his face into his hair again. "Sometimes, I wish it had been me. I should have been the one. I should have died. But ...but I … wouldn't want her to go through this. She tried to ...I don't know spare me? Tried to postpone our wedding, when she got sick. For once ... I said no. For once, I didn't let her have her way. For once …."

"And maybe if ...if I had pushed harder. Maybe I could have gotten her to slow down. I should have …I should have taken her home. I could have gone over her head ...but… she ...did things her way. She always ...always did what she wanted. Always got her own way."

He was taking slow deep breaths now but his voice still shook as he spoke.

"God she was stubborn," he found himself laughing again, "and smart and ...and kind. Independent streak," he held his arms wide as he spoke, "a mile … more than that. Sharon didn't need anyone. She sure as hell didn't need me." Again, he brushed back tears. "I don't know what she saw in me. I just … I thank God… haha, God. I thank God she wanted me."

He looked up again. "God …" he whispered. "I just want to stop hurting. I want … I want to fall into a dark hole and never come out. I want a drink … I," his voice cracked. "I want my wife."

His vice-like grip had his hands hurting. He had no idea how to stop now that he had started. He closed his eyes letting his head hang and his shoulders drop.

The silence seemed to drag on and on. No one watching knew quite what to do. Obviously Andy needed to talk and many of them were experienced enough with the program to not rush him. At least if he was here he wasn't drinking.

The screeching sound of metal on linoleum drew his attention.

Andy looked up. He took a deep breath, "Thanks for listening."

 **A/N thank You for reading**

 **Tried to find all the typos - hope I did but guessing I didn't. Had to get this out of my system. If you are so inclined ...please leave a review**


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